The memory was clear, crisp as spring dew as it played on rerun in my mind.
I saw her choke, her calloused hands scratching at her neck, tugging, clawing manically as she turned a peculiar shade of blue. Panic brought tears to her eyes. Ragged, laboured breath was torn from her lungs in vain as she struggled to inhale and exhale past the vice like grip that was squeezing her neck like a sponge. It throttled her. Nothing was there, an empty space. Cold and empty, just like the presence that I knew was there, and existed. I could see it.
I saw the way its eyes shifted, darting in separate directions, as if in paranoia despite the fact that nobody but I could see him. His eyes appeared anxious, worried and desperate, but the sadistic grin that split his face was mocking and patronizing, his blue skin pushed back to his ears by the sheer mirth of the smirk. Long fingernails impaled my grandmothers neck, and blood trickled in small rivulets as she cried in pain.
I felt sick. Looking around me, I saw how everybody else watched in horror as an old lady fought thin air, her kicking getting weaker and weaker by each passing second. Each scream grew fainter and fainter. But then another scream hit the air. It was blood curdling, piercing in my ears, and my instant reaction was to cover them. That was before I realised it was myself who had wailed the ear-splitting shriek. Getting to my feet, I found myself running towards the creature that had my only loved one by the throat.
I hurled myself forward, forcing my protesting limbs to carry my suddenly heavy body weight. Shock ran thick in my blood, thundering in my ears as I struggled to speed up my aching heart. The ground sped faster beneath my feet, as I quickly approached the creature. One eye stopped suddenly in its psychotic path, fixating on me while the other continued its uneasy shifting. Unblinking, he stared, and I stopped dead in my tracks. I mentally screamed at myself to move, but I couldn't. The scorching liquid thrashed in my head, the war drums of this already lost battle.
I took a step, and my breath hitched in my throat. Another. A single tear found its way down my cheek, cold against my fevered skin. Another step. By now my certainty was absolute, I had no control over my body any more. The beast's features split further, the perverse beam sending chills down my spine, growing wider with every one of my steps. My eyes flickered to my grandmother, who was now limp and deceased, her eyes rolled into the back of her head whilst the whites of her eyes turned an off yellow colour, clashing with her now dark purple skin. I couldn't bring myself to admit her death. I choked back a sob, and turned back to face the creature that had released its putrid fingernails from her throat.
“What do you want?” What was meant to be a demand came out as a whisper, and I cursed mentally. I must not look weak, I chastened. But it was too late.
The creature rose, and approached me with slow, deliberate movements. He held no physical body, instead a ghastly black veil of mist that hung from his violet neck. The frail tendrils of raven black fog brushed over my arm as he circled me. Goosebumps thrust out from under my skin, and chills shook my spine violently, spreading throughout my every limb.
A male, detached and manic laugh broke from his watering lips. “Scarlett, dear child,” his voice shot throughout my body like an arrow, and I gasped in pain. His steely voice resembled the screech of dragging one's fingernails down a black board, causing me to flinch, and my knees to buckle. The floor rushed up towards me, and my head crashed down with a deafening split, as my disabled body prevented my arms from softening the fall. “So courageous, but thy child is inept and feeble. So pathetic, my dear Scarlett.” I gritted my teeth as a fingernail traced my jawline, tilting my blood-soiled face towards his abhorrent features.
“Fear not, child. You will not die, of that I am sure,” he cackled, or rather shrieked, before leaving me alone in silence, to await the death he so blatantly lied about. I knew this death was inevitable.
Silence was thick and oppressing in the air, so heavy my lungs couldn't breathe without great effort, and left me on the verge of choking. Hands trembling violently, the metallic tang of blood attacked my senses, and the sting of my salty sweat drip into my gushing wound. I felt myself begin to lose consciousness.
A searing pain shot through my entire body, like my blood was burning, like a rampaging boar, blinded by fury in bloodshot eyes, not ignorant to danger, nor unaware, but deliberately ignoring it, blatantly intent on going on until it's last, snorted gasp of air into its ruptured lungs. I felt myself being torn apart, my sprinting heart choking on panic. Colours flashed behind my closed eyelids, bright, blinding. One would usually think death was a numb experience, as did I, but now I beg to differ. If I really am dying. For all my ignorance, the spectre could be stealing my soul for its own, or like an extortioner, carnivorously tearing my paling flesh from limb and bone manically, feasting on my fear as it gushed from the penetrating wounds.
Another flash of pain. Light, like the brilliant cerulean blue of topaz, struck from my head to my toes in a bolt of ferocious lightning. Tearing, ripping, thrashing. I clawed at my neck, sharp nails attacking violently at the cloth, sending buttons scattering, but they went almost unnoticed by me as I continued to scratch at the same spot, digging through the flesh as I tried, crying out violently, to stop the agonizing embers from destroying me inside-out.
I sat bolt upright. My heart stopped beating. Everything went silent. My blood halted abruptly. My hands tore at the sides of my face. Blood gushed from my head wound and from the lacerations that followed my trailing fingernails. The world throbbed in front of me, but I could not see anything for my eyes were clenched shut, as I was deprived of any better hiding place, or as if somehow none of this was real, it was all in my head, because I had my eyes closed. As naïve as I longed to be, I knew very well that this was not the case. A high frequency noise stabbed from my throat, like a double-sided blade it impaled my ears to the pommel, piercing my mind and every conscious thought. I tried to stop the shriek as it burned up through my throat, but all attempts where futile.
The pain subsided, from a dull thump in my entire body to nothing, just the acute awareness of my bodily functions working perfectly, as they should be. My screaming was not piercing, hot and sharp as it was before, but rather like the tinkling of bells on a Christmas tree. I stopped clawing at my cheek bones, instead felt down the side of my face for the severe wounds that my nails has inflicted. To my astonishment, there was nothing but perfect, smooth skin. I reached for my chest, my eyes shut tighter still, but my trembling finger tips again met perfect, impeccably smooth skin. Both hand shot up to my head, and as they brushed through the smooth, auburn tresses, my eyes shot open.
I gasped, the sudden intake of air causing me to feel emphatically light headed and dizzy. Above me was a dull, oppressive grey sky, unblemished by any stars or moon. In fact, it was not at all like the darkness of a December night sky, no, not at all. It was thick like tar, still and unmoving like a lifeless object, yet ominous and intimidating like the most frightening of creatures; despite the monstrosity I was forced to encounter. The floor spread on for miles, stretching on and on without obstruction. I scrambled to my feet, looking about me in every direction possible, but everywhere I looked, everywhere I turned, every angle and every disorientating wheel looked indistinguishable beyond belief. Too bleak to be heaven, and I had no reason to be sent to hell. So just where was I? Such questions ambushed every coherent voice in my head, overbearing and too loud for its own good.
“Scarlett.” The voice reverberated off invisible walls, and in consequence ripples jumped out across the dull grey surroundings, scattering as they ran away from the source of such a loud, unnatural voice. I felt like a tadpole, swimming across the waters surface in a frantic attempt at reaching a sanctuary from the terrific, bombarding blitz. I trembled. My voice was spat with such venom, such disgust that with that just two syllables I felt my knees beginning to give way, unable to take the added weight of my fear.
Mist rolled in, dangerously viscous as it engulfed me in its suffocatingly dense clutches. My head turned to and fro frantically, my bottom lip curled over and my sides of my mouth tilted down into a panicked shape, trembling. I slapped a hand across my mouth, choking the screams that threatened to pour forth from my scarlet lips. I didn't want to draw attention to myself, but my lungs burned with such an urgency to call out as they continued to be overdosed by oxygen.
“Scarlett!” It yelled again, but this voice was different. It was familiar, recognisable. Relief washed through me, but dread soon overrode the emotion as I remembered where I was.
“Grandmother! Grandmother Aggie!” I answered, my voice feeling like the strongest part of me at that moment. Ripples danced again, fleeting with rapid movements through the atmosphere. Shouts of protest reached my ears next, gargled and choked. My eyebrows knotted together, as I pushed myself through the condensed waters. I followed the ripples that scattered in the opposite direction, determined to find the source of the commotion.
Putting my arms out in front of me, I felt my way through, my eyes fixed on the strange ceiling. It was much like having the sea above me, instead of beneath. I lowered my gaze for a moment, trying to decipher anything or anyone around me. Dark shapes loomed above, menacing and intimidating. One was coming towards me, it's trailing arms reaching out above its shoulders. It bore no face, it was but a mere shadow, however I could not erase the creeping fear that shunned my courage. The shape did not grow, nor shrink, as I approached.
I watched in wary anticipation, narrowing my eyes. It wasn't right. It looked lost, the way its arms stretched out towards me. I took another dubious step, every thought focused on the being that called out to me. Another step took me a foot further, but not a foot closer. I took another two, but to no avail did I loose any distance between us.
I lifted my foot to take another step, when it disappeared. I gasped, and my eyes widened. I glanced about me, then behind. My heart stopped dead.
“Hello, Scarlett.”
I screamed The sound rang before I was cut short, a bone hand clamping over my mouth, yellow flesh hanging by the sinews. I refused the need to retch as the putrid smell attacked my senses with enthusiastic vigour. The sound vanished into small tinkles, but the purity of the innocent noise was soiled by the heavy, raspy breathing of the being before me.
He laughed manically, his jaw slack and bouncing as he shook with mirth. His one controlled eye focused on me, large and curious with an air of chastity. I frowned, disgusted with myself. I should not feel pity for such a monster. But something stirred in my stomach, besides the need to convulse and empty itself. I choked, spluttering as the hand was removed and instead wrapped itself around my neck, strangling the question on my lips. But he seemed to hear it, nonetheless.
“You were not born, child. It burned, how your grandmother pretended I did not exist. She did not pay heed to my lost existence, she told nobody.” The grip slackened, and I seized my chance. “What am I talking about, you ask? I am the baby she miscarried. I am the child she lost. She did not grieve, felt nothing for me. Now look at me, consumed by grief, resentment and hate. I cannot go passed yonder gates to heaven until I become pure, and I cannot forgive Mother for forgetting my existence until she is dead.”
I frowned ineptly. I heart a curt cough, and averted my eyes over the creatures shoulder. My grandmother. She was laying on the ground, a weak smile graced her thin, frail features as she acknowledged me.
I sent her a reassuring smile back, and felt my nerves calm a little. I returned my gaze to the lost soul before me, and met his one steady gaze. I showed him the same smile, and he creased his brow in a suspicious manner. I reached for my neck, pulling my necklace off and opening the locket with slightly trembling fingers. “Virgil Williams,” I spoke, showing him the inside of the locked, “born 4th of December, 1710. Your mother spoke about you all the time, you know, Uncle Virgil.”
A light shone from his eyes and his chest, dazzling and brilliant as he stumbled backwards, his hand falling from my neck. I seized the opportunity, and ran to my grandmother. I watched by her side as he continued to stare at the locked, where a small lock of dark brown hair lay over a piece of parchment which read
birth and death
of
Virgil Williams'.
He turned to face us, the light had now shed through his whole body. I covered shielded my eyes with my arm, the other wrapped around my grandmothers shoulders. When I uncovered them again, instead of the gruesome monster that had once been, a man stood. He was not particularly handsome, still bearing the same lazy eye and lanky frame, but beautiful in comparison to his once being. Tears gleamed in his eyes, falling in torrents down his cheeks as he regarded us with a small nod. Then the light became too brilliant to see, and I squeezed my eyes shut. The light shone through my eyelids, and all I could see was the crimson red of my eyes. The light dulled, and when I opened my eyes, he was gone.
I looked down at my grandmother who smiled. I did not. I knew she would not return with me, as she too sparkled with the same white light. “Take care, Scarlett love.”
And thus I returned from the dimension between life and death alone.